Ground Rules
by Kazeren
Summary: Don't touch me. Don't stare at me. Don't talk to me. AU.
1. Don't talk to me

Gundam Wing- It's in there, just keep reading…

Pairings – Unannounced

Warnings – Not totally sure where I got this idea, and I just ran with it. Language. Blood 'n' gore innuendos and somebody being drugged…Randomness on the main character's part.

Disclaimer- I don't own Gundam Wing. I only own the plot line, Dr. Danvers, the woman, and "I"

Damn it. Why am I here again? I'm not crazy. I half expect to see that long brown braid as those infernal double doors slide open once again. I swear they laugh at me every time I walk through them. I'm not crazy. I know I see them, they follow me around…no, not the doors, who was it? Oh, them…Well, the blond does. He smiles weekly as I turn around again to stare at him. The other four, they tend to pop up at random moments.

The woman with me grabbed my wrist and spun me back around in the right direction. "Are you hungry, sweetie? Do you want to get something to eat after we talk the Dr. Danvers?" A song I had just heard on the radio rose to play in my head. The woman sighed at my silence and pushed the call button for the elevator.

Oh, that's why I'm here. I stopped talking. Well then.

The woman pulled me out of the elevator before I had a chance to finish counting all of the dots on the wall. Why does that always happen? By the time I get back to the elevator, I won't remember where I left off. Damn.

Ah, the esteemed Dr. Danvers - or his office at least. I don't like this place, every thing's too happy. I briefly wonder if the sectary's face ever hurts from plastering that fake looking grin on her face, then I'm reminded of that braided baka. Hm, that annoyed me. Braided idiot. Or fool…fool worked. Fool, that was the last word I read in my book. Hey! Where's my book? Ugh, I was forced to leave it a home. Damn.

Oh, there's Danvers. Good, the woman is distracting him. The woman…who's she? I watch as the she gives the doctor the stack of stapled papers and the sketch book she had been carrying since we left the car. Then she left. Wow, she's such a wonderful mother, leaving me with this…oh, that's who she is. I almost forgot about her. Good thing I remembered. Help me, I'm drowning in sarcasm.

Dr. Danvers looks through the sketch book searching for the new drawings. Humph, the least he could do is ask. A song floats into my head again. "_Sweet dreams are made of these, who am I to disagree? Travel the world and the seven seas, everybody's looking for something. Some of them want to use you. Some of them want to be used by you. Some of them want to abuse you. Some of them want to be abused."_ Marilyn Manson version…

When Dr. Danvers gave me back my sketch book, I took a pencil and sat down in the one chair in the room where I could see all exits. With the song still in mind, I started to draw, using the lyrics as a border. When I finished it, I looked up. Dr. Danvers was finished reading the papers the woman had given him, and he was watching me. I turned the sketch book towards him, and showed him the pencil sketch. He winced. I looked down at it. Hm, yes slightly disturbing, but nothing compared to some of the other drawings in the book I had hidden in the… My head turns toward the blond I had almost forgotten. He'd just love for me to give up that secret.

"I finished reading the instant messenger archive from the last two weeks."

Hm, I really need to find that notebook….what? Oh, it's talking again…

"These logs show that you're sane enough to carry out an intelligent conversation with your friend. He also has some very interesting things to say to me when you told him I was reading these."

Well yeah! It's kinda rude to read someone's private conversations.

"Now the puzzle is to figure out why you just won't speak. I'm supposed to find out if you actually have a speaking disorder, just refuse to speak, or you can no longer utter a sound. To do that, I need to know some of your thoughts, but that's incredibly difficult to accomplish through a few drawings and the conversations with your friend."

You know, for a guy trying to help someone speak again, he doesn't give much opportunity for the other to take him up on the lull in conversation. Not that I'd be doing so anytime soon…now stop that!

I glared at the blond-but it's wasn't the blond, it was the brunet with the long braid. He was laughing. Damn it all, why do they have to keep switching? And now jabber gob's noticed him. Or me looking at him anyways. Why can't anyone else see my annoying tag-along-people-things?

"Ah yes, your…friend." If he says imaginary, I am so out of here. "Could you draw me a picture of what he looks like?" HE? There's five of 'em! Oh well, no explaining that one to him.

I opened my sketch book and flipped through a few pages. Finding the right one, I showed Dr. Danvers the picture I had drawn of the blond. Underneath his picture was his name. Quatre.

Dr. Danvers looked at me, "How do you say this?" I grabbed a sheet of paper off of his desk and wrote down 'Cat-tra' and gave it to him.

Don't ask, don't ask, don't ask…."So this is the guy following you around?" Damn, he asked. I shook my head, took back the sketch book and flipped to another picture.

"Duo?" His eye brows rise. "So, are they the same person, or are there two?" I shake my head again and flip to another page. "Five! Five different ones?"

I nodded wearily and flopped onto the office couch. Sighing through my nose, I laid my forearm across my eyes.

- -

I don't exactly remember why I couldn't talk anymore. I just stopped. All I know is, a nightmare woke me up, and as I tried to scream, my throat closed, and nothing came out. It was frustrating trying to tell everyone, they just assumed I willingly chose to stop communicating with the human race. Hah, willingly my ass. Then I noticed the followers. No one else did of course. Just my luck, I get five dysfunctional guardian angel wannabes that nobody notices, and said nobodies assume the next word out of my mouth is 'quack' and I'll start waddling around.

I. Am. Not. Crazy.

Well, that's what I thought, until I ventured out of the house on day. Then my train of thought derailed, the tracks went bye-bye, and the conductor was hog-tied and thrown out of the engine. At first, I simply couldn't remember things. Where I'd left something, what I had eaten for breakfast, the woman who had made said breakfast… After a bit of concentrating, I remembered these things. A little later on, my one-track mind split off like a rodent's family tree. I found I had to close my eyes, or concentrate on a simple thing, a button, or drawing something, to put all the little mice back in the box of my mind where they belonged.

I think it was the inability to get what was in my head out. I was always one to speak my mind, and I can't count all the times my frankness pissed people off. It probably did drive me up the wall now that I think about it.

Life as I knew it screeched to and unwavering and final stop. I became a…well, even more reclusive, not even going out to anywhere. I ended up just staring at the walls most of the time. Contemplating why everyone was avoiding me. I had told everyone long ago that I had no sanity left, and when I finally did lose it, they left. Too awkward to be around me I guess…

Finally, I was introduced to Danvers. He helped, a little, for all my stubbornness. He was the one who started the sketchbook. I had missed drawing; no one had wanted to give me the option of having a sharp, pointy pencil at my disposal. As if I would waste it by throwing it at someone, it might break the lead!

Eventually, I got back online, and was able to talk to the one person who didn't mind I was slightly off my rocker. We talked, I got better. Between the every other week visit with Danvers, and daily talks with my buddy, I got better.

I still saw the followers, though.

- -

_I didn't know where I was. That scared me. I hurt from where I'd landed. From where I…Dark room, dark room, dark room. How do I get out of here. There's no light. Light, light…A flash light! My fingers roamed over the cool metal, looking for the on switch. I didn't find it. My hand jerked back. Not a flashlight. Gun._

_Trigger, fire, bullet, boom. Only one reason why a weapon would be left on the ground…the guy who owns it is lying next to it…_

_Images of what might be in the room invade my mind as I draw my knees up to my chest. I laid my head down on them. A nervous and slightly manic giggle escaped me, and my brain seemed fuzzy. Fuzz……y. Fuzz-fuzz. _

_A door slid open somewhere and light flooded into the room. I didn't look up. Wait, since when did doors slide open? I looked up. It was all blurry. I brought my hand clumsily to my face to shield my eyes. It bumped my glasses then flopped uselessly back down, hitting the floor. The bright light dimmed to grey, slowly growing darker, until, cool blackness took over._

_--_

"_Ngh"…that hurts. Where the FUCK is my pillow. The least I could do is pass out somewhere comfy. Now I had a headache worthy of a booze hound's first AA meeting and I'm cranky. My hand searched around for my pillow. I found a boot. Shit. _

_The toe of the boot nudged my hand lightly. "Are you awake?" _

"_Who the hell are you?" _

"_Hm, quite the mouth on you. I thought young woman were supposed to have good manners."_

_I rolled away from the boot and curled back up. _

_Mr. Bootsy left. I was alone again. Damn, my head hurt. _

_--_

_I woke up. I can't believe I had been able to fall asleep. The headache was gone, but I was still cranky. I let the world know it. I yelled, screamed, and cursed anything and everything. When I ran out of new things to say, I repeated everything, twice over again._

_I only stopped because my voice gave out. Then I wedged myself in the corner and waited. _

_The door slid open. _

"_Are you done?" Great, Mr. Bootsy was back. _

_Now that I could see clearly I looked at my booted tormentor. Bootsy was a tall young man with long blond hair. _

_Mr. Bootsy…Was Zechs._

_Well, shit._

A/N: Like I said, I don't know where I got this idea. I've got the second and last part planned, but, unless anyone's interested, it probably won't make it to ff.n (and in no way am I bribing anyone.)

Thanks to my beta-person, Ash-kun.


	2. Don't touch me

Gundam Wing

Pairings – Unannounced

Warnings – Not totally sure where I got this idea…Randomness on the main character's part. Mild language.

Disclaimer- I don't own Gundam Wing, The Cat in the Hat, or "Leave Out all the Rest" by Linkin Park. I only own the plot line and "I". Sue me and be prepared to be counter sued for upsetting my delicately un-balanced mind.

Zechs stared at the girl. Everything about her screamed civilian: no uniform of any kind, just denim jeans and an informal black shirt. Hazel eyes glared at him from behind a pair of glasses framed in matte black. Dark brown hair was pulled back and away from her face. Zechs' eyes were drawn to the glint of light reflecting off studs set into a bracelet she wore on her left wrist. On her right wrist was a thinner black bracelet decorated with sky blue tribal designs.

"You are staring."

-

Hah! That got him. I was done with being surprised with how rudely I was being treated. Locked in a cell, and stared at by the commanding officer-said commanding officer being Zechs Marquise. How I came to be on the plane of existence as Zechs…I'll worry about that later.

He seemed to come out of whatever daze he was in. "What is your name?"

"Lucifer." I grinned, thinking of the friend that gave me that particular nickname. Besides, better to lie now, then be caught later after they research whatever name I happened to give them. This way I might actually be believed when and if I told them my real name. When and if, if and when. Maybe I'll tell them if they take me out of this damn box.

"Alright then," he said, through gritted teeth, "Who sent you?"

"More like who brought me."

Zechs crossed his arms over his chest angrily, or in what might have been anger…kinda hard to tell through that blasted mask of his.

Moving my fingers under the collar of my shirt, I pulled a bit of the chain of the necklace up and out, and began rolling it between my fingertips.

An intercom buzzed to life on the far wall, causing me jump slightly. Zechs' eyes narrowed a bit. Damn my jumpiness…

"Sir, another prisoner has come to."

Another? Hmmm…

"Thank you, Kirkland." Zechs spoke briskly. "Open the door."

With that, Zechs left in an efficient yet elegant stride.

Wait, elegant? I laid my head down on my knees. Been locked up way too long… "Ugh."

--

I didn't look up when I heard the door open. I was too busy watching the little black spots that liked to pop up from the grey colored floor. A shadow blocked my view. I raised my head to look up. My eyes went past the fuzzy shadow to stare at the ceiling. The funny dots were up there now.

"Her eyes are unfocused; do you think they drugged her?"

Look at that, walls do talk.

"There's no time. We need to move out."

Ooh, mean wall.

"We'll take her with us; maybe she can tell us how OZ knew we'd be here."

It's a weird sensation, being lifted up in the air. I grabbed the front of the shirt of whoever had me. The movement from the floor seemed to provoke the little black spots. Vertigo caught up with me.

"Watch for Bootsy." I mumbled.

--

Trowa looked down worriedly as the body of the girl he was carrying went limp. Duo glanced up from where he sat, reloading the commandeered OZ issue hand gun. "She's out," he said, flicking the safety on. "Anyone know who this Bootsy is?" Heero said nothing as he waved them to the door. There was no time to argue with the taller young man: they had to get out of the base before they were discovered missing.

"Hallway is clear. Trowa, stay between us."

"Alright," Duo grinned, "let's get out of here."

--

I shifted slightly as the sound of dishes being moved around and voices talking quietly woke me. I rolled over under the blanket, so that I was facing the back of the couch. Another normal weekend with my mother, bumming off of someone else's couch again, wishing I was at my dad's, with my own pillow…What the hell? I wasn't supposed to be with my mother! Let alone on another stranger's couch. I sat up, squinting from the light spilling out of the next room. It distorted the shadows in what I had now dubbed the living room. Without my glasses, the shadows seemed to fluctuate as my eyes tried to focus on them. I squinted at what might have been a coffee table that stood in front of the couch I was still sitting on. Hell, it could just as easily be a large rectangular box that likes to explode when something touched it. Ah well, they'll know I'm awake eventually.

I reached out towards the table, thinking I should lay off the sci-fi movies for awhile, and began using a patting motion, searching for my glasses. I sighed as I found nothing but what felt like a stack of magazines on the table. Luckily, nothing went boom, and I would have laughed at myself had a hand not come out of nowhere and touched my shoulder. I made a strangled sound in my throat, and flinched so violently that the foot I had moved to the floor collided with the coffee table. I made another strangled sound and drew my foot back to the couch, and began to rub it, attempting to make the pain fade away.

"Whoa, easy. Didn't mean to scare ya'. You okay?" I looked at the figure standing next to me; it's back to what might have been the kitchen. Another shadow, taller then the first, walked from the well lit room to stand just to the side and slightly behind the first. I pulled my hand away from my aching foot and to my face, just a few inches away from my nose. "Yeah," I said, now rubbing my strained eyes, "I don't think it even broke the skin." Though that didn't mean much, considering I was wearing socks. I redirected my attention back to the two figures, wondering vaguely about where my shoes were. "Where are my glasses?"

"On the table," said Thing One, gesturing to the brightly lit room, "in there." He turned and walked into the room leaving me with Thing Two. Okay…this is only a lot awkward… Shifting, I put both feet on the thinly carpeted floor, pulling the blanket off my lap. Standing up, I dropped it in an undignified heap and, taking care not to run into the coffee table or couch, shuffled my way towards the kitchen. I found my shoes by tripping over them at the end of the couch. The figure still in the room with me took a step forward, presumably to catch me, but I waved him off with my left hand as my right gripped the arm of the couch tightly. "Thanks but no thanks." I muttered, getting my feet back under me. I lightly kicked my shoes out of my way and continued on to the kitchen, blinking a few black specs back to wherever they had appeared from. I ignored the fact that I had become lightheaded and my eyes were clouded by black spots.

--

AN: I wanted to get this chapter up before school starts tomorrow. Sorry to anyone who thought I would never update, and if I scared anyone with my awkwardness in my replies…

I know I didn't answer many questions in this last chapter, but never fear, I'll get around to it…eventually…

Thanks again to Ash-kun!

"_When my time comes, forget the wrong that I've done. Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed. Don't resent me, and when you're feeling empty, keep me in your memory. Leave out all the rest." _Leave Out all the Rest, Linkin Park


	3. Don't stare at me

Ever had that feeling when you wake up after sleeping for a long time and you feel incredibly dizzy, almost nauseous? And when you try to walk after just getting up, the floor tilts and you find yourself tripping on air, falling up hill? No? Maybe just me…

I would have grumbled under my breath if I had the energy to. I finally made my way into the kitchen. One of the blurry figures said my glasses were on the table. I stared at the table…and stared. Then I squinted at it. I wanted to slap myself, it was so pathetic. Dark table plus dark glasses equals I can't see a damn thing. 

Taking a chance, I reached out at the only thing I could see. As my fingers closed around it I heard a small "humph" of annoyance. Throwing the pen down I looked to my right, where a different colored blob sat. Green patch where the torso should be, brown blur on top of a fuzzy face. That's it, I give up. 

I moved around to the opposite side of the table and sat down. A flash on the table caught my eyes. Oh look, my glasses. I quickly picked them up, put them on, then decided I wanted to go hide in a very dark corner.

Staring at me were Trowa, Heero, and Duo. 

Oh yeah…Zechs was in another hallucination somewhere back there. Way back there…what odd dreams I have… 

So I stared back at them, not trusting my brain to come up with an intelligent remark, and daring my mouth not to say _"Oh don't mind me. Just dropping in. Dimension Hopping is ever so much fun!" _I think I'd get shot for that one…

What I knew: I saw Zechs. I see Duo, Trowa and Heero still staring at me…and I think I was about to get a gun pointed at my head. But that may just be personal paranoia…

What I didn't know: how the hell I got here, what I was going to do about it, and how I was going to get back. Get back. Now there's an idea. Right up there with shooting my mouth off to Gundam Pilots. Something told me that getting back would take more the a few clicks of obnoxiously shiny shoes…

I just laid my head on the table. After a few seconds, I simply said, "No." I looked up. All three were still staring at me. I have gained three of the perhaps six of the most dangerous people alive attentions. I'd do my dorky happy dance if I thought I wouldn't make a fool of myself by tripping and landing rather gracefully on my ass. 

"No," I said again, "I don't know where the hell I am, how the hell I got here, or what the hell I'm going to do about it. On a good point, I _think_ I know my name. Can I go back to sleep now?" I think I confused them. Good. They were probably expecting me to start bawling, me being an untrained civilian and all that. It would have been a good idea, if I thought it would have affected them in a positive not-going-to-be-shot-because-they-wanted-me-quiet way. 

Notice I never said I wasn't close to completely losing it, this was way too damn confusing. None of them said anything, or shot me, so I laid my head back down and waited for something to happen…and waited…and waited…

Finally something dinged. It felt like it had been ages. But I'm sure Heero would have been eager to tell you it had only been a minute and a half since I'd stopped talking. 

One of the boys had gotten up and I heard some clicking. Then Heero's (speak of the devil…) dispassionate voice stated that the other two pilots were on their way, their ETA was in oh-something-hundred-hours. And when the merry group were all grouped together, the Doctors would be contacting them on a secure channel to give further instructions on what to do with the their guest. My head shot up at that, and I got the three pilot's undivided attention _again._

"Well at least _somebody_ knows what the hell I'm doing here." I mumbled, getting up. I decided to ignore the others as I stumbled back towards the couch. Grabbing the blanket, I curled back up, making sure my glasses were still firmly attached to my face. At least the couch was comfortable. I've crashed on worse…including sharing with a scrawny cat…

* * *

I awoke to the sound of more voices drifting from the kitchen. More voices that I could make out now that I was no longer…whatever it was that was making me dizzy and seeing funny black spots. I got up and looked for my shoes, and put them on, grateful that I hadn't kicked them far. Then I steeled myself to face my fate as I walked back into the kitchen.

Then I blacked out and woke up in my bed. It was all a dream……..

Did you really believe that? No, I did not awaken in my bed. 

I walked into the kitchen and completely ignored the five young men sitting in front of a video screen, and the five old men who were sitting beyond the screen. I really didn't care that Wufei let out a strangled curse and Quatre looked at me with an odd expression on his face. I really didn't have the attention span to try and figure out what Quatre or Wufei might have been thinking. I did, however, have the thought process to locate the gently humming refrigerator.

I opened it's totally-devoid-of-magnets door, then slammed it shut, having decided that I really wasn't hungry for the loaf of bread and the gun I found in there. And no, dear reader, in no way did I want to know why there was a gun in the fridge. My only idea was that there was hope that, in case of attack, one could hide behind the door and shoot from behind it - but that was unlikely because a refrigerator door would only stop bullets from going through it if it had a thick metal door. And I don't think I'd just opened a steel refrigerator door, but I kicked it to be sure.

By now I had about ten pairs of eyes watching to see what crazy stunt I'd pull off next. Being able to sleep in the same house as all five of the Gundam Pilots, easy. Completely ignoring said pilots? Child's play. Going around kicking refrigerator doors? Now there was my mission in life….or would there only be nine and a half pairs of eyes staring at me? What with Trowa's hair and all….

"Well, moving on," Began a voice from the vid screen. Looking over, I saw that it was Dr. J. "You must be Marie."

I glared at him, "How, pray tell, are you familiar with my name?" Dr. J and a few of the others smiled slightly. 

"We've been researching you quite extensively, young lady." 

Okay, so not at all hungry any more. "Oh, well, I'm sure that makes it okay for a bunch of bat crazy old men to know my name." I almost had turned and headed back to the living room before the wording in his last sentence struck out at me. 

"Wait." I glared at the screen. "What in the nine levels of hell did you mean by 'researching'? And what in those same hells am I doing here!" Mental breakdown in five….four….

"Now, let's not get out of order. We'd like you to answer a few questions for us."

"Questions." I was hoping someone noticed the peeved tone of my voice before it turned into a pissed tone. No one did. Lucky me.

"Yes," continued the wonderful doctor. "Where were you born?" 

"La Mesa." Yes I get the irony… Don't know Spanish? Good.

"State?" I really hated these people.

"Sunny old Cali." 

"Parents?" Why am I indulging these people?

"One Mike Smith." 

"Mother?"

…three….two….

"I don't know anymore." I got a few raised eyebrows. "What's the point in these questions, other than pissing me off?" 

"We are trying to assure that you are Marie, and that your memory is intact." This time it was G who answered. 

"Surely you know that by now." Peeved to pissed in seconds flat. Yep. That's me. "Now it's my turn for twenty questions." I think I had every one's attention. Good.

"Why. In. The. Hell. Am. I. Here? Please tell me I'm just on some kind of reality altering mental breakdown."

And here did the Dr. J and the others look smug. "Oh, no, you're not in some hallucination, or on any drugs." Whoo, lucky me. 

"We managed to build a successful machine to alter time. Hawking was correct! Well, mostly."

…two….one….

It was my turn to stare, with the pilots this time - who have now been mostly ignored- at the doctors on the other end of the line. 

So, a bunch of mad scientists have figured out the complexities of time travel, and they've managed to screw with me in the process. What…..what? 

….one…zero. Mental Breakdown reached. 

"But this universe…the people, those five!" I waved my hands. "There not supposed to be…"

"We know this is confusing. You're not the first to be brought here. It will take some adjusting."

"What…who?"

"A rather nice man by the name of Masashi Ikeda." 

It took me awhile to think through that. "Oh." 

The pilots looked at me, like they should know the name that made everything make sense. It certainly didn't mean anything to them. I slowly turned my back to the screen, then made my way back to the couch in the dark room. Numbly I noticed that there was a remote on the table in front of the couch. I grabbed it and clicked on the television set. There was a newscast on. Describing an explosion at an OZ base. I turned the T.V. up as I recognized a figure in the background. 

" 'tis Bootsy!"

A few heads popped into the doorway to see what I was yelling about. But I ignored them -again- and started flipping the channels after the newscast went off. 

* * *

-Finally. It took me forever to get this written, and I really don't have excuse, except that I really am very lazy. Please review, nice reviews make me happy. I really don't know what bad reviews do to me, but I'd rather not find out….

I realize that the La Mesa and the Hawking and the Masashi Ikeda references were a bit obscure, but I'll put some info in my profile to explain things a bit. 

Thanks a bunch to Ash-kun!


	4. Don't ask that question

**AN: I feel absolutely horrible. I've had this typed up for a long, **_**long**_** time but I'd convinced myself there was something wrong with it. Then I looked at the old reviews and nearly cried when I read one asking me to keep going. I put myself on a guilt trip then proofread this. It was the least I could do. I sincerely apologize about the wait. **

**

* * *

  
**

So what did all five Gundam pilots do when all together in a safe house? Clean their guns? Create mission plans? Order the biggest bad ass gun from Mercenaries-R-Us? Nope, they stared at me. They stared at me while I stared at the T.V. trying resolutely to ignore them. Notice I said 'trying'.

My eyes kept wandering towards them, and one of the boys would always catch them and return with a pointed look. They wanted answers, they wanted them now, and they didn't care how long the staring took. Or whatever else they had planned. I'm sure they had a nasty little arsenal of tricks to persuade victims to shell out info. The answers they wanted? I didn't have them. Five mangy scientists who don't know how to leave well enough alone might have the answers, but I didn't.

Two basic instincts hit me then. I took care of the easy one first when short, dark, and lethal moved his weight to his other foot, clearing just enough to the entrance to the hall way to be usable. I think I whimpered when I shot off the couch, suddenly running past these guys was just a _bit _dangerous. But then again, that might be personal paranoia. I know I couldn't stop the slightly manic laugh that escaped me when I found the door I was looking for. I could only imagine what the Wufei's face looked like as I rocketed past him.

I didn't care. I found the bathroom.

I quickly found the light and flicked it on, slamming the door behind me. There were no windows, which is probably the only reason someone wasn't shooting the door down behind me. Nowhere to go anyways, why waste my time climbing through a window and into a world I wasn't supposed to be in? Exiting by window was not easy, or comfortable, or very fun when you misjudge the height and you get the breath knocked out of you. Looking in the cracked mirror above the sink, I nearly grimaced. My eyes were droopy and my hair was escaping its tie. I quickly redid the ponytail. Short of a brush and some conditioner, I wasn't working out the couple of rat's nests that had mangled my hair; and as soon as this latest burst of adrenaline wore off, droopy eyelids would be the least of my problems. Finding the couch before I hit the floor would be advisable.

Using the bathroom for what it war for, I took care of the first instinct. Washing my face and hands, then drying them with my jeans, I ventured out to take care of the second. Walking calmly past a slightly wide eyed Wufei and company, I ventured into the kitchen.

Food.

Already knowing what was in the fridge, I tried a different source of food. A search of the cabinets turned up dust, a cobweb or five, and two chipped plates. Lovely. The pantry off to the side turned up one can of chili. This had to be bad karma. Snagging the can from the shelf, I backed out of the small pantry. Setting the can on the counter, I looked at the five boys that had followed me into the kitchen. I'm sure one of them wanted to see if I'd beat up the stove too.

"I'd eat it," I said as I went back to searching the empty cabinets, less in need of food and more for doing something with my hands "but seeing the contents of a can of chili ten years expired tends to scare one away from seeing the contents of another."

All I got were blank stares. Okay, maybe the can wasn't _that_ old. I swung the doors closed with a sigh. I didn't really want to do this, but… "Why do ya'll keep staring at me?" Ya'll is a word. Leave me alone. "I know the situation is strange, but there's no reason to stare, it's rude." Says Miss Prim and Proper herself. I wondered if I laughed out loud at the irony, they'd think I was nuts. Hell. They probably already believed I was nuts. _I _believed I was nuts.

"Please excuse us, Ms. Marie, but it isn't often all of us are gathered together." Ah, Quatre, ever the gentleman.

"Then you're excused," I said, leaning against the counter top, "and it's just Marie." Adding a 'Ms.' makes me sound like a school teacher. My gaze wondered up to the ceiling, and finding nothing more interesting than water stains, I looked back at Quatre. "What happens now?"

"We're too close to the OZ base." Heero stepped forward, drawing my attention to him. "We have coordinates to location that has been set up for us. We've been ordered to split into two groups and meet there within twenty-four hours." Whee-hoo, a plan.

Apparently karma was done playing with me, because the door outside was on my side of the kitchen. I straightened from my semi-slouch and walked towards it, hoping not to be stopped. I wasn't. In fact, they all calmly followed me outside, then took the lead. Looking around I noticed that the house stood in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods. I followed the boys to the other side of the house, where I could see a small truck, just a dinky three person vehicle that would be cramped. Next to it, thankfully, was a small car.

The boys had stopped in between our transportation, looking a little bemused. Well, Quatre and Duo did. The others didn't show much of any expression on their faces. Likely trying to figure out seating arrangements. I made it easy. I walked to the car and went to the back door. I tried the handle and was relieved to find it unlocked. Swinging the door open I sat down, waiting for something else to happen.

Trowa shrugged then opened the driver's door to the truck, Heero and Duo following him. Quatre got in the passenger's seat of the car, and Wufei slid behind the wheel. He started the car as Quatre frowned slightly. "We never got fully introduced to each other," he said looking back at me.

"Doesn't matter," I replied, toeing my shoes off. "You're Quatre, he's Wufei, Trowa's driving the truck, Heero's frowning at me through the window, and Duo's in the middle." I saw Wufei's raised eyebrow in the rearview mirror and ignored it. Turns out karma still hates me; I never did eat anything.

It's strange, I love the adrenaline rush I get from roller coasters, and I never get sick, but put me in a strange car driving down a winding road, and I feel like my stomach wants to try functioning on the outside of my skin. So on long trips, I sleep. Usually I drop off pretty quick, and hopefully I wake up when I'm close to my destination. This time I wasn't so lucky, and I finally had to give up on the nap. Maybe I've slept too much in the past day or so. Maybe I was still running on adrenalin.

I sat up and looked out the window. No surprise that I didn't recognize the landscape. Then I noticed that Wufei's eyes were focused on me through the rear view mirror. Then his eyes flicked back to the road, then back to the mirror, as if he were making sure I wasn't about to pull some stunt in the back seat.

"Maybe you should keep watching the road," I said, a little annoyed with the eye -constantly-watching-me-through-the-mirror routine. There wasn't a single car on the two lane gravel road, and the land rolling by was just woods. The only thing a driver not paying attention could hit was a tree. Either the small truck was behind us, or they took a different route.

Wufei's eyes returned to me then switched to the road and stayed there. "Why are you so calm?" he asked in response. His voice screamed _I'm annoyed_, while his face probably stayed impassive. Or maybe he was trying to use his eyes to burn a hole through the windshield, who knew?

Quatre was staring straight ahead, probably wondering if he should interfere or let the two of us dance toward the boundary of annoyed discussion and angry argument.

"What's the definition of 'calm'," I answered, "I'm anything but calm." I watched the trees flash by. There weren't any 'posted' signs nailed to the trees. We must be really out in the middle of nowhere. I fiddled with one of my bracelets, a little amazed I still had them. "I was taught not to panic when things happen. I have no idea what's going on, I'm still not sure if this is really happing, and I really, really just want to go home."

"So why don't you?" Wufei's tone was acerbic, and it lit my teeny tiny fuse to my huge temper. I tried not to fly off the handle too much. I tried to remember that little boundary we seemed to be straining at.

"Not knowing where the hell I am and not knowing how the _fuck_ I got here tends to make going home a little difficult, don't you think?" Damn, I was annoyed, I rarely used such a strong curse out loud, and I forgot about that boundary thing. Oh well.

"What do you mean you don't-" He tried to get it all out, but I interrupted.

"I _mean_ that I went POOF! And all of a sudden I'm in a black room sucking down air that tastes like chemicals and feeling dizzy and reaching for a flashlight that I'm convinced is somehow right next to me and finding a gun and I know it's a gun and I really start panicking then and I can't see right anymore and when I wake up there's someone with really big boots standing next to me and I suddenly recognize him as someone who can't exist and…" I had to stop to gasp in a few breaths. My hand was at my neck, fingers slipping under the collar to play with the chain to my locket. But once I had started my hysterical litany I had to finish. "I think I kept cussing him out and I had a horrible headache then I remember him mentioning something about pilots and then I was talking to walls and one of them was mean and then I got picked up then I woke up and nearly had a panic attack when I couldn't find my glasses and I thought that the table was going to blow up and then I saw more people that don't exist then I found another damn can of old chili."

I slumped against the door, shaking. I felt like I couldn't get enough air in my lungs and my heart felt like it was going to beat itself right out of its cavity. Quatre was looking at me, turned around in his seat and straining the seatbelt. "Ms. Marie, are you okay?"

I shook my head. "I don't have the answers. Go ask the crazies." Then I passed out.

* * *

** Hyperventilation is not good.**

**AN: Again, I really, really apologize for the wait. No excuse. If you've read this and you are still confused (as well you should be, I haven't explained some things yet) just know that I will be explaining some things, probably by next chapter. Especially the whole "I couldn't talk before but now I am" thing with Marie (the last chapter will fully explain, I plan to hint until then). I have an explanation. Maybe not a scientifically plausible one, but, hey, this is my world. I think…**


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